The Girl Next Door
by iLoVeRynMar
Summary: She turned toward the house when the light went on, and when she spotted him in the window she blew him a kiss. He stood there, frozen, torn between wanting to continue watching her and knowing that this wasn't right. She was his grieving neighbor's daughter. She was six years younger than him. Written for the Tumblr 'Prompts in Panem' 7 Day Challenge: Intimate Portraits


**A/N: Something I cooked up for Day 5 of the Prompts In Panem challenge over on Tumblr hosted by the lovely Jessa (misshoneywell). Thank you Mrs. Peetaspenis for everything you do for the Everlark fan fic community haha :) The day's theme was 'intimate moments' and I based this piece off the picture of the naked girl at the window. **

**Thank you to Court81981 for beta'ing this for me super fast and HGRomance for providing me with feedback. I'm really lucky to have you two lovely ladies in my corner. Enjoy and come follow me on tumblr! (thegirlonpeetamellark dot tumblr dot com)**

Peeta Mellark didn't have a lot of friends.

Actually, to be more accurate, Peeta Mellark had plenty of friends. He just didn't have many people who he was actually close to.

At 28, he lived alone in a home he had recently bought with the money saved from working full time since graduating from college. He loved the house on the quiet street that was a mix of modern and old -fashioned. He loved that he could busy himself with home improvement tasks on the weekends, something to distract him from the lack of any closeness or intimacy with others in his life.

And he probably would have continued his somewhat loner ways if it wasn't for his neighbor.

Mr. Everdeen had just moved in next door. He was a recent widower - his wife succumbing to cancer after several years of fighting - who sold his old home and looked for someplace quiet where he could heal and not constantly be reminded of the painful memories of his loss.

Peeta brought over some cheese buns the first weekend the older man moved in, and they became instant friends.

They probably got along so well because both men were quiet and didn't ask many questions and didn't mind the others company. Peeta began helping Mr. Everdeen with his own home improvement projects since he had just about fixed everything over at his own house.

It was one day in early summer. Peeta was working on replacing the light fixture in one of the spare rooms.

When he thinks back to it, he realizes that Mr. Everdeen had indeed informed him exactly why he wanted the light fixed in that room. He wanted it fixed because his oldest daughter was graduating from college and moving home to live with him, and it would be her bedroom.

He really wishes he had remembered that tiny little detail, that he hadn't just let it drift in one ear and out the other. Maybe if he had, he would have been able to keep it together a little better when he came face to face with that daughter.

He was standing on a ladder, a screwdriver in one hand as he inspected the light fixture in question. The door swung open and there she was.

Dark hair, grey eyes, olive skin. She was dressed in workout gear and had a gym bag over her shoulder, which she dropped to the ground.

"Who are you?" She eyed him curiously, part surprised by his presence and part...intrigued? Was he reading her right?

"I...umm...uhh...I live next door. I'm helping your dad with some home improvement stuff," he managed to get out, feeling flustered. "My name's Peeta." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, not quite meeting her eyes.

Something about her intimidated him.

She made a noise of assent and nodded her head, her eyes trailing up and down his form.

He could feel himself flush. He was suddenly very aware that they were alone in her room together. They were the only two people in the entire house as Mr. Everdeen was spending the day running errands.

"Well, thanks for helping out, Peeta" she said with a wry smile. She reached down and peeled her tank top up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but a sports bra.

He was vaguely aware of his mouth hanging open as she sauntered over to the bathroom.

"I need to shower," she told him over her shoulder, shooting him a look that made his blood run hot. She didn't wink at him. She didn't even smile. It was something in the intensity of her eyes, though, that had his cock twitching.

She dropped her shorts to the ground until they pooled around her ankles where she kicked them aside haphazardly. He was left with the view of her tight, perky 22-year-old ass in a barely-there thong. It wasn't the worst thing he had ever seen.

She turned around, and it took him several moments to drag his gaze up her body to meet her eyes.

"I'm Katniss," she said with a smile before closing the door.

* * *

That was the first time Katniss had teased him and made his cock throb with desire, but it definitely wasn't the last.

A week later, it was well past midnight when he woke, thinking he heard someone in his backyard, the soft whooshing sounds of a body gliding through water audible. As he approached his bedroom window, he turned on the light to give him a better view.

And there she was. Swimming naked in his pool.

She turned toward the house when the light went on, and when she spotted him in the window she blew him a kiss.

He stood there, frozen, torn between wanting to continue watching her and knowing that this wasn't right. She was his grieving neighbor's daughter. She was six years younger than him. She was...

She was getting out of his pool, naked and dripping wet. There was no towel in sight.

She rung out her hair, squeezing the water from her dark locks.

He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

She looked up at him in the window with her hands on her hips.

His cock was painfully hard.

She finally laughed and shook her head a little and then sauntered back over towards her own house next door, disappearing into the dark.

He came thinking of her dusky nipples and her tiny waist and the dark hair between her legs.

* * *

Being around her was like playing with fire.

He knew he would eventually get burned, that it would blow up in his face, that it would end in catastrophe, but he found it harder and harder to care.

He only managed to show some self restraint when Mr. Everdeen was present. He wanted to respect the man who had somehow become one of the few people in his life he was close to and actually cared about. He saw him and saw the heartache of his loss on his face, and he couldn't fathom doing anything that would be disrespectful.

And fucking the man's daughter as hard as he wanted to felt like it fell into that category.

He should be able to control himself. He shouldn't want her so badly.

But he did. And she knew it.

It was during dinner one night at the Everdeens' house. Peeta had been more or less strong-armed into staying for dinner since he was over late fixing a dripping faucet.

She sat close to him, her eyes traveling over his form, a secret, amused smirk gracing her lips.

She could look at him as much as she wanted. She could study him and laugh and smile without worry.

He, however, avoided her eyes and kept his gaze down. He feared that looking at her would give himself away. That Mr. Everdeen would pick up on the lust in his eyes, or that the feral need raging inside him to make her his would be glaringly obvious.

There was a lull in the conversation when he felt her slip her hand into his under the table. He stiffened at first but didn't pull away.

And then, before he could even consider it, she dragged his hand between her legs and up under her skirt. She pressed his first two fingers to the wet, warm heat of her panties.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip and hated himself when he didn't pull away immediately. Instead, he pushed his fingers against her folds, and she made a little gasping sound.

He had the glass of water in his other hand in a death grip, and he finally managed to retract his hand from between her legs.

He didn't say anything the rest of dinner, furious with himself for being so weak.

Afterwards, as they were all helping clean up in the kitchen, Mr. Everdeen disappeared down the hall to use the restroom.

The moment he heard the door close he turned on her, grabbing her arms and pining her against the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.

"Don't you want me?" she asked, appearing genuinely hurt.

He wasn't prepared to see the vulnerability there, the look in her eyes that told him that she really had no idea the effect she could have.

She looked sad, like she might start crying if he told her he didn't want anything to do with her. And that was far from the case.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes actually beginning to glisten with tears. He realized in that moment that she was lost and probably alone like him.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "my mom's gone, my sister goes to school on the other side of the country, my best friend from childhood has a new girlfriend now and doesn't have time for me anymore. I'm just...sorry."

"Why are you fucking with me?" he asked, forcing himself to ask the question before he broke down and gathered her in his arms to soothe her.

She at least had the decency not to deny it. "I want you," she said simply with a shrug of her shoulders. "I want you to fuck me senseless and help me forget."

He turned away, unable to look in her eyes anymore.

The truth was he wanted her to. He wanted to fuck her repeatedly, wanted to make her scream his name.

"We would be so good together," she insisted, and he felt a shiver go through him at her words because he knew she was right.

As Mr. Everdeen returned from down the hall, Peeta made some half-hearted excuse to leave and returned to his house.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could deny himself from being with her.

* * *

"You know, most guys would have just fucked me already," she said one afternoon from her spot on her bed as he was replacing the blinds in her room with new wooden shutters.

Mr. Everdeen kept insisting he pay him for his time, but he refused. He enjoyed doing this work. And it didn't hurt he got to spend time with Katniss.

She had tone down her advances in the several weeks since that dinner.

She still sauntered around in her bra and panties from time to time, but she never outright came onto him.

It wasn't exactly something he was glad for, but it definitely made it easier for him to think clearly around her.

They talked. He told her about his job and his childhood, the verbally abusive mother and the two older brothers he could never live up to. She told him about her sister, Prim, and her mom's battle with breast cancer. She told him about Gale, the friend who she had known all her life, who now spent all his time with his girlfriend, Madge.

He liked her. She was honest and funny and passionate about the people she loved. She gave all the money she had saved from working the past few years to her sister to help with her college tuition. She gave up a job offer to move home after college so she could be with her dad as he tried to cope with her mother's passing.

"I guess I'm not most guys then," he replied to her assertion, his back turned towards her as he stood working at her window.

"You want to though," she said, blowing on her toenails as she finished painting them a bright green color. "Just like I still want you."

He froze, reminding himself to take deep breaths.

"Do you think I'm a slut?" she asked after a few moments passed and neither of them said anything.

He turned to her, confusion apparent on his face.

"You know...because of how I first acted around you when I got home," she explained.

"No..." he said at length, wondering where this was coming from.

"I'm not," she insisted, like she hadn't even heard him. "I've had sex with one guy. It was freshman year of college. We dated for three months. I guess it was mostly about losing my virginity. He wasn't very good."

He just laughed and shook his head. She never failed to surprise him.

He felt her presence as he turned back to the window. He could sense her get up off her bed, making her way towards him, stopping when she was standing directly behind him, barely a few inches separating them.

"I just..." She wrapped her hands around his waist, her breasts pushing into his back, her hands slipping under his shirt, exploring the warm, solid muscles of his stomach. "Do you know how often I finger myself and think about you?"

All the blood in his body rushed straight to his cock and he grabbed onto the window ledge to try and hold on.

"I can't explain it," she whispered into his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "All I could think about from the moment we met was fucking you and what it would feel like to have your cock inside me."

She dropped her hands to the very prominent bulge in his pants and gave him a gentle squeeze.

He didn't try and resist. He moaned and pushed himself into her hand.

He would have broke right there and then, too. He would have turned around and barely gotten their clothes off before burying himself inside her if it hadn't been for the sound of the front door opening.

The sound of Mr. Everdeen returning home.

He snapped back to his senses and pulled himself away from her, chastising himself for almost giving in.

Every part of him wanted her, his cock most of all, but even his heart was starting to get thrown in the mix. The more time they spent together and the more he learned about her, the more he found it nearly impossible to keep holding himself back.

But Mr. Everdeen's sad eyes, the grief and pain written all over his face, was always in the back of his mind, and he just couldn't let himself do that to this man. He was sure the last thing the man needed on his plate at the moment was his little girl fucking the older bachelor next door.

She scoffed and gave him a quick slap on the ass.

He was close to breaking and she knew it.

* * *

When she knocked on his front door one day, he was sure that this was it.

She was going to be wearing heels and a trench coat and nothing else.

She was going to fuck his brains out and he wouldn't even put up much of a fight.

But when he answered the door she was holding a plate of cookies.

He hair was in a long braid down her back and she was in sweats and an oversized t-shirt.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and invited her in.

"I made you cookies," she proclaimed happily, handing him the plate.

"Uhh...thanks," he laughed, touched and surprised by the gesture.

"My dad thought it was the least we could do since you help out so much around the house and won't let us pay you," she explained.

"I told him," Peeta replied, taking a cookie from the plate, "I like doing it. It's like a hobby."

Katniss shrugged in response as he bit into the cookie.

He clamped his jaw together as the disgusting taste invaded his mouth. He tried to keep his face normal, not wanting to give anything away and hurt her feelings.

Like always though she could read him so easily. She studied his face, her eyebrows pinching together in concern.

"What is it?" she asked, eyes darting from his unmoving mouth full of cookie and the plate in his hand.

She grabbed a cookie from the plate and bit into it herself. After a few seconds her face scrunched up in disgust and she spit the offending treat back into her hand.

"Oh my god, that's disgusting!" she exclaimed.

"They're not that bad," Peeta offered weakly, even as he spit out his own piece of cookie into a napkin discreetly.

"They're awful!" Katniss insisted. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Peeta shrugged and avoided her eyes. He didn't say anything because he would rather swallow a mouthful of the worst cookie he had ever tasted than risk hurting her feelings. He was touched by the gesture and he wanted to show her he appreciated it.

She studied him for a moment and realization seemed to dawn in her eyes. She knew that he was playing the nice guy. She knew he was just trying to spare her feelings.

"I think I used salt instead of sugar," she finally said and they both dissolved into laughter.

"God, I'm an idiot," she cackled.

He assured her it was a mistake that could happen to anyone.

* * *

The hardest days where when he could tell she was horny. Today it happened in the guest room.

"Can you tell I'm not wearing a bra?" she asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind her.

He turned to find her in a white tank top that was two sizes too small for her. It ended well above the waistband of her shorts and revealed plenty of her midriff. It was also practically see-through, and he could easily make out the outline of her dark nipples.

"Little bit," he retorted, turning back to attempt to refocus on his work.

She approached him slowly from behind where he was sitting back on his heels.

"Can I give you a massage?" she whispered in his ear, sinking down onto her knees, her hands gently squeezing at his taut shoulder muscles.

He gave in for just a moment, her hands felt too good on him to deny.

"Does that feel good?" she murmured, reading his mind, her nose trailing along the skin of his neck until she was tugging his earlobe between her teeth.

His eyes were closed, his head was dropping back. He was slowly going insane from wanting her and struggling to remember why he had even chosen to stay away in the first place.

"Peeta..." she whispered, and for some reason the sound of her voice like that saying his name snapped him back to his senses.

There was something in the sound of her voice that reached deep inside him. It wasn't just longing and lust, it was real and aching. He was afraid it was love. He was afraid he felt it too.

He jumped up to his feet, feeling flustered and nervous.

"Umm...I...uhh...I got to head home, work in the backyard to finish up," he mumbled a pitiful excuse, practically running out of the room and back to his own house.

He grabbed a glass of water from his fridge and then made his way outside to his backyard, realizing he hadn't watered the grass or plants in days.

He was untangling the hose on the side of the house and turning on the water when something caught his eye.

He approached the fence that separated his house from Mr. Everdeen's. It was only chest-high so from where he was standing he had a clear view into the guest room window, the room he had just been in with Katniss.

And now Katniss was staring at him through that same window, arms crossed in front of her in annoyance.

He was just about to raise his hand to awkwardly wave at her when he saw her strip off that too-small tank top of hers.

His mouth dropped open a little and he looked around to ensure no one else was getting the show he was, but it was unnecessary. There was no one but him and her. Even Mr. Everdeen's car was missing from the driveway in front of the house.

She turned and disappeared for a moment until she came back into sight of the window, dragging a chair along with her. She set up the chair so it was facing him, and she must have seen his perplexed look because she just smirked back at him, amused.

Then she unbuttoned her jean shorts and pulled them down her hips, leaving her naked for his greedy eyes.

"Fuck..." he mumbled to himself, feeling his cock twitch at the sight of her.

She sat down in the chair. From his position and the arrangement of the window he could only see her breasts and halfway down her stomach. But then she lifted both her legs in the air and placed each foot against window, legs spread wide.

Her pussy was hidden from view, but the fact that it was just out of sight only made him that much more wanton with need. He gripped onto the fence and felt his breath coming in ragged gasps.

She fondled her breasts, gently pulling and tugging at her nipples. And then her hand slipped down her stomach...lower...and then lower still.

He heard himself cry out when he knew she reached her clit. Her mouth fell open, and he was gripping the fence so hard he could feel himself getting splinters. He watched in complete fascination as she worked herself, one arm moving in small circles and the other making a thrusting motion. His dick was painfully hard and though he entertained the idea of running over there and helping her out, he was in a trance.

He had never seen anything so fucking hot in his life. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Her breasts were heaving up and down as her breathing started to accelerate. Her head was thrown back against the chair, and her mouth was hanging open, her face contorted in ecstasy.

He was right there with her, imagining her rubbing her clit faster and faster as the pleasure built up until it became too much for her to handle. When he saw her come, he grunted and pushed himself against the fence, needing some relief for his cock. She went limp, her hands falling to her side as her head fell back, and she tried to catch her breath.

He was breathing like he just ran a full on sprint, and he finally released his grip on the fence.

Katniss opened her eyes lazily and looked at him.

Then she stood up and disappeared from view.

* * *

It was a week after the 'window incident', and he had made a decision.

He got home from work and knew what he had to do.

He was going next door to tell Mr. Everdeen how he felt about his daughter. He was going to go next door and ask him for permission to start dating her.

He walked up to their front door so nervous, so nervous and out of sorts, that he didn't even notice that their car wasn't in the driveway like usual.

He rang the doorbell and then knocked a few times, patiently waiting for someone to answer. After a few minutes when no one appeared at the door, he stepped away, trying to catch a glimpse through the window.

"No one's home, boy!" He heard the Everdeens' other neighbor, a drunk, cranky old man named Haymitch Abernathy, yell from his porch. He laughed and took a swig from the bottle of whiskey in his hand, swaying back and forth in his oversized rocking chair.

"Um...do you know where they are?" he asked nervously.

"You didn't hear the ambulance come in the middle of the night?" Haymitch retorted, and Peeta felt his blood run cold.

He ran back to his house and called Katniss' cell. She didn't pick up, and he was forced to leave her a rambling, frantic message.

"Katniss...hey...Haymitch just said something about an ambulance coming last night? I'm really worried. I hope everything is okay. Umm...I want to come see you, wherever you guys are. I need to know you're alright. Please call me as soon as you get this. Umm...okay...bye."

He hung up with a knot in his stomach and an anxious feeling pressing down on his chest. He shook his head with a pained sort of laugh escaping from his lips. Of course, this would happen just as he finally felt like he figured out what he wanted.

He paced anxiously for the next several hours, and every time his phone rang, his heart dropped and he lunged for it, preparing himself for whatever news awaited him on the other line.

Finally, Katniss called.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He could feel himself trembling, and he realized just how important Katniss and her father had become in his life. They were all he really had.

Slowly, relief started to wash over him as Katniss explained what had happened.

She was fine. So was Mr. Everdeen. He had had a mild heart attack last night, and she had called 911. The doctors ran plenty of tests and determined he would okay, but that he needed to start taking medication to prevent any future problems.

Peeta sat in his living room, eyes closed, overcome with exhaustion now that he knew everything was okay. He insisted on coming to the hospital to see them both, but Katniss pleaded with him not to. She explained that he was going to be getting released sometime either late tonight or early tomorrow morning and she wanted to focus all her energy on taking care of paperwork and getting her father out of there. She promised to come see him when she got back.

Peeta hung up feeling better, but there was still a nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't shake.

He realized, as he sat alone eating dinner, that it was the fact that he had been planning to approach Mr. Everdeen about his feelings for Katniss and hadn't gotten the chance. And now, with his neighbor recovering from a mild heart attack, he was going to be hard pressed to find a good time to bring that up.

* * *

It was past midnight and instead of being in bed, Peeta was downstairs in his living room. He was attempting to read, but he couldn't focus. His mind kept wandering to Katniss and her father, his gaze drifting out the window and next door, waiting for any sign that they had returned home from the hospital.

At some point he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was being awoken by the sound of soft knocks at his door. He sat up in surprise, his face dry from where it had been resting against the pages of the book. He ran a hand through his hair and approached the front door.

He didn't even get a chance to properly look at her.

He was only able to briefly recognize the figure on his doorstep as Katniss before she flung herself at him, wrapping her hands around his neck, pulling his mouth down for a kiss.

He was so surprised at first that his mouth was simply slack, not returning the passion of her kiss. And then, when his brain processed that this was really happening, he closed the door and pulled her more firmly against him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, he cradled her face with his hand, he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer, and even closer still.

"Peeta..." she whimpered when they pulled away to catch their breath, but he couldn't bear the idea of not kissing her now that he knew what it felt like.

His tongue sought entry to her mouth eagerly, pushing and stroking and tasting. She melted into him; they were breathing through each other, ragged gasps and wandering hands.

"Please..." she started chanting over and over again, and his brain didn't even register her plea until he felt her leading him over to the desk chair where he had fallen asleep reading.

She pushed him down on the chair, and he looked up at her stunned, his brain clouded with lust and adoration for this woman in front of him.

He watched in a daze as she reached up under the soft cotton sundress she was wearing to remove her panties. And then she was on her knees pulling at the button and zipper of his jeans. He didn't protest, just lifted his hips to help her as she dragged his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, which he promptly kicked off.

His cock was humming with desire, hard and aching for her even as a small voice in the back of his mind still tried to protest. He was still very aware that nothing had really changed, and he still felt like he was going behind Mr. Everdeen's back, especially now after his heart attack.

"Katniss..." he started to say, trying to form a coherent thought, trying to maintain his composure even as his dick pointed up at her, hard and ready.

"No, Peeta, please..." she whimpered, lowering herself to straddle one of his legs.

He jumped when he felt her slick wetness on his thigh, and his hands immediately went to her hips. She gripped onto his shoulders and began rocking back and forth against his thigh, rubbing her clit and spreading her arousal on the bare skin of his leg.

"I need you so much," she panted, whimpering as her hips started rocking faster against him.

He made a pained sound like if he held back a second longer it would actually kill him.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "My pussy is aching for you, Peeta."

And then they were on the floor.

And one of her legs was over his shoulder.

And he was buried inside her, each of them making sounds that almost sounded like they were in pain, not ecstasy. The feeling of finally being joined was too much to process.

He could not hold back. He had dreamed about this moment, stroked himself to completion while fantasizing about it for as long as he had known her. She was perfect. She was hot and wet and tight and met each of his thrusts with equal fervor.

She screamed his name over and over again.

He could feel her nails digging into his back.

"How does your pussy feel now?" he growled into her ear. "How does your pussy feel now that it's filled with my cock?"

She whimpered in response, head thrashing from side to side. And then his hand dipped down to where they were joined to find her clit. He rubbed her in tight, hard circles, and he could feel her clench around him as she came.

She went limp, and he could feel the tremors of her orgasm still surging through her body. He paused his thrusts to catch his breath and lowered her leg off his shoulder.

Then he sat back on his knees and grabbed her hips to pull her with him, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands were at her lower back, holding her hips up so she was even with his cock.

He gazed down at her, flush skin, messy hair. Beautiful. He pulled on one strap of her dress and was rewarded to discover she was without a bra. He tugged her dress down to reveal her breasts to his hungry eyes and when he began to knead the flesh, she moaned her approval and started to rock her hips again, encouraging him to continue driving into her.

He was in a trance. He had never felt like this before. He had fucked a handful of women in his life, and he thought it had been good, great even. But this was something else entirely. It was the relief and satisfaction, of course, of finally being with her after months of teasing and longing. But it was more than that. He had spent his entire life keeping everyone at a distance, floating by completely unattached to anything or anyone.

But then she came and changed everything.

She was fearless and sometimes reckless, but she was mostly like him. A little lost and alone, just needing someone to connect with, who understood.

He admired her. Her was amazed by her, the way she never hesitated to go after what she wanted. The fact she would swim naked in a stranger's pool or finger herself in a window or tell him about her pussy, teaching him that, apparently, he really, really liked dirty talk and that he wasn't too bad at it either

He loved her. He could admit that now. And it wasn't scary. He loved her, and yet he lusted after her. He wanted to fuck her into oblivion, fuck her into submission for all those times she had driven him crazy with want.

His hands were at her lower back, and his thumbs gripped around the curve of her hips

They knew each other's bodies so well. It was innate, like they had done this a thousand times before.

He pulled her to him as he slipped through her tight, wet folds. Again and again and again. He set a hectic pace, and she started to moan and whimper.

"I need to punish your pussy, Katniss," he heard himself saying, only he felt oddly detached, like in this moment he was someone else entirely. She could do that to him. "I need to punish it for making me want it so bad all this time."

She screamed in response, chanting 'yes' and assuring him that she wanted him to punish it. And then his hand found her clit again, making her back arch. He could feel his own release fast approaching and he could only focus on the sight of his cock disappearing inside her. He was pounding her, the sound of their bodies slapping together and his labored grunts and her mewls of delight filling the room.

She came again before he did, and the feel of her insides squeezing him and her body spasming beneath him pushed him over the edge. He rocked his hips into her in time with his release, filling her up.

He collapsed against her and tried to catch his breath.

He rolled to his side and pulled her against him. He thought about how right it felt to hold her in his arms and decided that was where she was always supposed to be.

He was able to function again before she was. He gathered her in his arms and brought her to his bed.

He woke when sunlight was just starting to pour into his bedroom. He woke to his dick in her mouth.

This time she was on top, and she rode him, moving her hips in a way that had him calling her name.

After fucking one more time, and then once more in the shower, they talked about how to break the news to her father.

Neither one had any good ideas on that subject.

* * *

They kept it a secret for several weeks, too consumed with one another to focus on anything but making each other come.

There was always an excuse.

Mr. Everdeen had check-ups with his doctors or one of them would insist he didn't look well enough to handle the news.

The longer it went on like this, the harder it became to even fathom telling him.

And then, two months after that fateful night, the choice to tell him was no longer a choice.

They had a nice homemade dinner, and Peeta broke his news first.

"Mr. Everdeen, I'm in love with your daughter."

And then Katniss shared her news.

"Daddy, I'm pregnant."


End file.
